


The Sunset in Reverse

by Pegaltan



Series: Anthologies [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Ghosts, Gods, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Youkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegaltan/pseuds/Pegaltan
Summary: A day in the life of Sawamura Daichi, an amateur exorcist.
Series: Anthologies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647217
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The Sunset in Reverse

In his dreams, Daichi was flying.

He soared over earth, over clouds and into the atmosphere. Sunlight fledged his back and he thrust his hands into the blue knowing that he was safe, that he would be safe and that nothing could harm him ever again.

Again?

Daichi opened his eyes.

For one clear, brilliant moment, he didn’t know where he was. He felt heavy and warm like his soul had wandered off and was just now coming home to roost. He blinked at stardust as he traced the slope of his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose, there and back, there and back, over and over again until his fingers came off wet and he quickly wiped his eyes, pretending to stretch and yawn as static burst from the stereo, Iwaizumi growling something about Tanaka and Nishinoya breaking his car.

The other man glared at him.

“Sorry,” Daichi shrugged, “Fell asleep.”

“I told you to take it easy.” Iwaizumi said, genuinely aggrieved. “You’ve been back for what, three whole days? Take the rest of the week off. Or at least request a half day. I’ll get Sergeant Ukai to sign off on it first thing in the morning.”

“I can’t do that.” Daichi protested. “We’re short-handed as it is. And we have the Tokonami case coming up.”

Iwaizumi’s lips twisted unhappily.

“You’re no good to us if you pass out. Don’t think I don’t know about your hobby. Either do it at a reasonable time or not at all.”

“Ghosts don’t like to come out in daylight, usually.”

“Then you should be charging through the nose for after hour service.” Iwaizumi griped, taking a picture of the car that had the audacity to cut in front of them. “Tea,” he countered when he saw Daichi open his mouth. “Doesn’t count. That’s just manners.”

“Spirits need help too you know.” Daichi said mildly.

“They can hire professionals like the rest of us. You think Loser-kawa works with shamans because he _likes_ them?”

“That’s too bad.” Daichi teased. “I was really hoping it would work out with Sasaki-san.”

Iwaizumi dropped Daichi off in front of his apartment. 

“Go,” He said bluntly. “Get some rest.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.”

Daichi held out a pack of lime green sticky notes[1] with little black birds doodled on top. Iwaizumi glowered. At first, he tried to look away. But when Daichi made a small noise of disappointment and made a motion to withdraw, Iwaizumi took the sticky notes and shoved them in his glove box.

The other man stuck a finger in his face.

“This conversation is not over.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Daichi said solemnly and waved him off.

Daichi’s apartment was on the fifth floor. The elevator was not working. Iwaizumi did not know. He hadn’t told his friends yet; he didn’t want them to, fuss.

He thought about moving. It was a discussion he had with himself many times in the dog days of summer. But the apartment was in a good location. He didn’t mind getting up an extra fifteen minutes early to catch the train. Kaneda-san at the station always had hot coffee and loaded sandwiches waiting for him and she charged a pittance.

His stomach growled at the thought of food. He patted it reassuringly.

“Hush.” And laughed because he was talking to his stomach.

Black dust motes giggled and scattered when he got to his door. Despite the nap in Iwaizumi’s car, he was still tired. His side ached and he could tell he needed to take it easy on his knees. Eyes closed, he counted one, two, three keys from the makeneko keychain Yachi got him as a get well gift. When he found the right key, he inserted it into the lock and wiggled it. The door clicked open.

He leaned against the wall. The light came on automatically.

“Ta-da-i-ma.”[2]

He said quietly.

“Daichi!!!”

Daichi ducked as a blur of yellow fur swooped down on him.

Terushima honked as he crashed nose first into the closed door and bounced back, bushy tail spinning like a pinwheel. He yipped, simpered and took a long sniff of Daichi’s armpits when he leaned down to peel his shoes off.

“Hey, that tickles.”

Daichi took the invasion of privacy astride. Terushima didn’t know any better.

“No Teru,” he pushed the raijuu[3] away when he started gnawing lovingly at his wrist cuffs, sampling the trace chemicals, sweat and deodorant. “We talked about this.”

Terushima licked him.

“Yuck.” Daichi groaned. “Dog breath.”

“Daichi. _Daichi_.” Terushima whined. “What happened? Your face tastes weird!”

“Nothing buddy,” he scratched Terushima behind his ears. “I took a nap in Iwaizumi’s car.”

“Naps are great. Naps are awesome. Can we take naps?”

“We’d just be going to sleep at this hour.”

Daichi hung up his jacket and put his bento box in the sink. If he didn’t do the dishes now, he’d never get to it. Living alone taught him a lot. Living with Terushima taught him more.

Refilling Terushima’s water bowl, he asked, “Did you have a good day today?”

The raijuu’s ears perked up.

“I watched TV. It showed me funny pictures—and cats! Cats are cute!” Terushima gushed. “And I didn’t break it.”

“That’s great!” Daichi laughed.

The first time Terushima tried watching TV, he knocked out the power to the entire building.

Daichi felt bad for leaving Terushima alone at home all day. It was a little cramped for the shape Terushima took when he came into Daichi’s care. He had hoped that Terushima would be a little smaller when he wasn’t calling down lightning or creating avalanches. 

He wasn’t. 

“Daichiii.” Terushima dropped his food bowl at his feet. “I’m hungry.”

Daichi looked inside his fridge. There was nothing that a dog could eat, not that Terushima was a dog, and nothing he was willing to eat. His wallet was on the thin side as of late but what kind of caretaker would he be if he let Terushima starve?

He turned to the raijuu.

“How’s your foot today?”

“Still hurts.”

Terushima obligingly dangled a paw when asked and squealed in all the right places.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” He asked sweetly.

At once, Terushima jumped to his feet.

“A walk! Let’s go—wait, why are you laughing?”

Daichi pulled on Terushima’s cheeks. 

“You’re so easy.” 

“Daichiiii.” Terushima whined, embarrassed at being caught on a lie.

“Alright, alright, let me change out of my uniform first.”

Terushima could barely conceal his excitement as the leash was clipped on his collar. 

Daichi made him sit and asked sternly, “What are the rules?” 

“No barking.” Terushima answered. “No talking.”

“Right, talking dogs are not normal.” Daichi nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

Taking Terushima outside was an adventure on its own. Terushima took a moment to sniff everything he could possibly stick his nose into. Daichi let him. He wanted Terushima to have the best possible impression of mankind after what happened.

Though Terushima trusted Daichi completely, he shied away from strangers and was wary of men. Daichi was glad to see him dismiss a group of college students waving at him for attention.

“You are a good boy, Teru.” Daichi reminded him after the raijuu swallowed a glowing, snail-like creature whole. 

He steered them both to a nearby convenience store for dinner. It wasn’t his favorite store; they didn’t carry his favorite brand of dumplings and the owner had a temper. But it was the only one open late at night, he told Terushima.

Other pedestrians gave them a wide berth. 

Terushima wiggled his lips as though he wanted to say something. For every word he resisted, he got a pat on the head.

They entered the shop. In front of the counter, he saw the shopkeeper in an animated conversation with a man whose hair seemed to have lost entire wars against a comb. Terushima whined at the charged air and Daichi was seriously reconsidering his stance on eating rice and miso soup for the fifth night in a row. 

“What seems to be the problem here?”

“Sawamura-san,” The shopkeeper breathed a sigh of relief as she took his hands into her wrinkled ones, crocodile tears glistening in her eyes. “Thank goodness you’re here. Can you do something about this hooligan? He’s causing such a _scene_. He’ll ruin my business!”

“What business?!” The man bursts out, spreading his arms out wide. “We’re the only ones here!”

“What happened?” 

”I’m trying to buy cigs...” the man started.

“He has no ID!” The old woman tutted. “You know the law. Why Sawamura-san, you’re a police officer. I can’t sell to him!”

Daichi looked over the man with a critical eye. The man stared back, jaws tight. Vanity translated into a very constipated look on his face. Daichi grinned, something the man returned with grim reluctance. 

“You’re right Saito-san, no ID, no cigarettes.”

“But...!” The man protested.

Daichi sympathized. He really did. He had never needed IDs after graduating high school.

He slid his card across the counter.

“Seven Stars please.”[4]

The man was waiting for him outside the convenience store, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t react immediately when the door chimed though he knew that Daichi was the only customer inside.

Instead, the man tilted his head and looked down; he was tall enough to look down. He smirked at the minute twitch in Daichi’s left eye.

“Well if it isn’t my cop friend?” He drawled. “I wanted to thank you for what you did back there.”

“Just doing my job, sir.” Daichi said pleasantly. “Glad I could be of assistance.”

The man held out the carton of Seven Stars and shook it, offering a cigarette.

“No thanks.” Daichi replied wryly. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not contribute to further delinquency.”

“I swear I’m of age.” The man pouted, which should have looked ridiculous but wasn’t. “It’s not my fault that I’m this good-looking.”

Daichi snorted.

The fact of the matter was, the _man_ was good-looking. Instead of making him look sallow or washed out, the tepid streetlight had the effect of making him appear casually debonair. Like a shojou manga protagonist and Daichi told him as much, to which the man preened, looking pleased. 

“My name is Kuroo by the way.”

The man held out a hand.

He reached out.

“Daichi, Sawamura Daichi.”

But before they could shake hands, Terushima forced himself between them with a small growl of reproach, curling his body protectively around Daichi’s knees. Daichi flinched, even as he pulled the raijuu back, wrapping his leash around a closed fist. 

He expected the sky to light up and thunder, but the only things that shook were Terushima’s bones. Terushima gagged as his collar closed around his throat and whined, anxious, confused and hurt as Daichi kneeled at his eye level, throwing an arm around his neck. 

“It’s okay.” Daichi said hastily, more to Terushima than Kuroo who took a step back in alarm. “He’s not aggressive.” 

Cold sweat sprang down his spine. 

Terushima looked like a dog at first glance. A cuddly, yellow, run-of-the mill golden retriever. The kind found in American movies with big houses and even bigger lawns. But at second glance, a third, a fourth, Terushima was too big. His teeth were too sharp. His eyes were too wild.

A part of him, something that Sugawara teased was his missing self-preservation instinct, reared its ugly head.

For a moment, he could have sworn Kuroo’s eyes flickered _red_.

“He’s big.” The other man said finally. A quiet sort of apprehension crept over him. 

“He’s a rescue.” Daichi replied.

“Guess he knows who his master is.” Kuroo hummed consideringly, dark eyes never leaving Daichi’s even as he offered a hand, open-palmed, to Terushima. “C’mon pooch, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Terushima looked like he was sorely tempted to bite Kuroo’s hand. 

“Be good.” Daichi cooed. 

Grumbling, Terushima took a cursory sniff of Kuroo’s hand and wrinkled his muzzle. Once he was finished, he promptly turned around and shoved his nose in Daichi’s stomach. In a soft voice, Daichi asked, “Are you okay Teru?” and Terushima shivered before whining an assent, satisfied that Kuroo would not do them harm. 

Daichi sighed in relief.

“Here.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out a matchbook. “Let me get that for you.” 

“...Thanks.”

Kuroo stood still as Daichi cupped a tiny flame, holding it up to light the cigarette. 

“Why do you carry around a matchbook if you don’t smoke?” Kuroo asked after the first pull.

“I never said I didn’t smoke. I roll my own.” Daichi explained, tossing the spent match into the garbage can. “Why don’t you have a lighter?”

“Maybe I do it to talk to cute guys like you.”

After a moment, Daichi said, “That was lame.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“With all due respect, I disagree.”

“Nobody means it when they say it like that.” Daichi pointed out. 

“Untrue!” Kuroo argued, waving his hand. “How about if I prove it to you over lunch?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Daichi asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, Kuroo was close, too close. He leaned in, leaving maybe an inch of space between their mouths. Daichi felt his pulse flutter as the man dragged a thumb across the back of his neck, carving heat in its wake. But as soon as it began, the moment ended, leaving Daich weak-kneed. 

Terushima was making small noises again. He hooked his finger the raijuu’s collar to steady himself. 

“Kuroo-san?” 

“A bug.” Kuroo assured him, raising his hands. 

Daichi blinked. It was early winter. It was too cold for bugs to be out and about. Unless they were talking about different _kinds_ of bugs altogether. 

As though to prove his point, Kuroo flicked the space over Daichi’s shoulder. “There. All gone.” 

Kuroo asked, “So how about that date?”

Daichi handed him his name card.

“A rain check.” He offered.

“Hmm…” Kuroo finished his cigarette and took Daichi’s name card.

After making a show of reading it, he tapped the name card against his temple.

“I’ll see you around then S’wamura-san.”

When Daichi and his pet raijuu was gone, Kuroo brought his captive out into the light. 

“Shikigami.” Kuroo said out loud. 

Filthy little thing, he thought privately. 

The shikigami squirmed and hissed in his hands. A tiny shadow summoned by a shaman to do their bidding.It was no wonder Daichi did not sense it attach to him. It looked like a loose trash bag or litter tossed in the wind. Kuroo supposed that he wouldn’t have found it either if he hadn’t been looking for it. 

“You should be thanking me. You take one bite out of him and the raijuu would have been the least of your worries. Uh-uh—” He interrupted when the shikigami squeaked in protest. “ **Do** n’t _l **i** e_ _to **me**_.”

The struggles ceased. 

“It doesn’t matter I guess.” Kuroo shrugged, releasing the veil of power around him. Either uncaring or unnoticing of those who might be watching.

He closed a sharp grin around the little shikigami’s head and bit down.

Daichi got up early in the morning. He gave Terushima a generous helping of rice and eggs before he left the apartment. He got a sandwich and coffee from Kaneda-san at the train station. He made it to the precinct on time. No one was crying when he walked in through the doors.

“Dai-chaaaaaaannn! You’re back.”

Oikawa Tooru sauntered up to his desk holding a potted plant. 

“Good morning, Oikawa-san.” Daichi said as he reached for the pot. He was hoping he would have time to get some work done. Oikawa waved him off and placed it on top of a stack of paperwork. Daichi winced when he saw dirt spill over onto his desk. 

“Do you like it? It’s foxglove. Get it?” 

“It’s too early for this.” Tsukishima said in passing, making a beeline for the espresso machine. 

Ignoring him, Oikawa said, “I missed you so much.”

“You saw me yesterday.” Daichi reminded him pleasantly. 

“Oy lovebirds,” Sergeant Ukai stuck his head out of his office, scowling. “Outside.”

Daichi packed lunch. He couldn’t afford not to. His lunch was whatever was left in the fridge, days or even weeks prior. Rice, side of marinated seaweed and daikon create a nice contrast in colors and implied a choice instead of shouting poverty. 

“You should take me to nicer places.” Oikawa sighed as he picked at his requisition soba. Daichi eyed it. 

“You’re free to go somewhere else Oikawa-san.” Daichi reminded him.

“But I want to have lunch with youuuuu.”

“My body may have recovered but my wallet hasn’t. And anything you pay for would be considered bribery.”

Oikawa took his hand. 

“Just say the word Daichi. You can quit your job. I’ll support you.”

“That’s very tempting.” Daichi admitted. “But my mom always told me not to trust strange men.”

“But I’m not a stranger.” Oikawa smiled winningly. “You know what I am.”

“This is a very good way to get exorcised.” 

His eyes strayed to Oikawa’s shadow which was bigger than what a man’s body should contain. The tails at his back were split in two, then three. On the floor, cast by sunlight, they settled around him like a lover and Daichi could almost feel their weight on his back. 

“Oy Shitty-kawa,” Iwaizumi slapped the back of Oikawa’s head, breaking the spell. “Stop harassing Daichi.”

“Abuse! Police brutality!”

“Iwaizumi-san.” Daichi nodded.

Iwaizumi, when he wasn’t catching criminals, was Oikawa’s official minder. Daichi could see Iwaizumi’s shadow but he couldn’t tell what it was. He didn’t have as many tails as Oikawa did. But his shadow swirled, like smoke, around the edges when he thought people weren’t looking.

“Stop wasting tax money.” 

Pouting, Oikawa attempted his allure again.

Iwaizumi hit him again.

“Ow! Iwa-chan—!” Oikawa turned around to protest and froze.

Slowly, his hand crept to the back of his head where a lime green sticky note stuck out from locks of brown hair.

“A sticky note?!”

“Ah.” 

Iwaizumi smiled wolfishly and slapped another one on, this time on Oikawa’s forehead.

Daichi watched in amusement as he finished his rice.

“Ack stop!”

Daichi’s phone rang.

While Oikawa was in the background, fighting with Iwaizumi to get the sticky notes off various parts of his person, Daichi asked, “Am I not supposed to use sticky notes as ofuda?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Sticky note works in theory but why would you?”

“Not all of us can afford to carry a stack of ofuda in our pockets.”

“It would make Asahi cry.” Sugawara agreed. Asahi worked for a prominent fashion designer. They had seen him wake up too many times in the throes of a nightmare, screaming about everything from line, fit and color. “Just wanted to remind you about Friday.”

“You really didn’t need to.”

“Nonsense, us shamans need to stick together.” Sugawara dismissed. “But you’re really alright? No fever?”

“Yes mother.” Daichi said patiently.

“Maybe I will tell your mom.” Sugawara said shrewdly.

“Please don’t.” Daichi begged.

Sugawara snorted in response.

“Is that refreshing-kun?” Oikawa asked, having crushed at least three sticky notes in the palm of his hand.

“Daichi.” Sugawara asked. “Are you having lunch with Oikawa?”

“Got to go Suga, see you Friday!”

“How about dinner Dai-chan?” Oikawa wheedled. “A celebration to yet another miraculous recovery.”

“It was a cold.” Daichi replied, unimpressed.

“I’ll take you to your favorite hot pot.”

“I actually have something tonight. Sorry.”

Oikawa scowled.

“It’s not that mutt is it?”

“Teru is fine, thank you for asking. But no, it’s something else.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi shared a look. With a sigh, Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa by the collar and began to drag him backwards.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa wailed. To Daichi, he shouted, “I’ll get you yet.”

Daichi waved.

In the afternoon, Daichi did his rounds. He greeted people. He helped people. When he noticed a shadow fleeing from the corners of his eyes, he followed it and tucked a folded star under a rock he’d seen it pass through.

He wanted to call Shimizu and ask if it was normal, if he was normal.

In the end, he didn’t call her.

Tendou flipped through Shounen Jump as Daichi went over the seals one by one, making sure that they were still in place, not eaten nor soaked in cold coffee.

“It’s the same thing over and over again. I started watching this series, another isekai, but I really liked the light novel you know?”

“You should really hire a professional.” He told Tendou. “Maybe a barrier expert?”

It was after hours and no one else was in the building.

“If Ushijima had doubts about your skills, he wouldn’t have asked for you.” Tendou told him.

“I know.” Daichi said. “I just feel bad, charging for maintenance.”

“Service is service.” Tendou said. “Good behavior should be rewarded. What would you do if you woke up one day as an evil overlord?”

“What am I an evil overlord of?”

Daichi held his hand out and when he felt the weight of envelope, he immediately tried to give it back.

Tendou bounced away, nose still buried in the magazine.

“Transportation fee, take it.”

“Am I flying to Spain? This is too much.”

“Consider it a bonus then.” Tendou shrugged.

“But—“

“Sawamura-san,” Tendou said, looking up. “You might not think it’s much, but you’re providing Wakatoshi-kun with a lot of protection. Wakatoshi-kun respects you. Think of what kind of message you’d be sending if you didn’t take the payment.”

Daichi bit his lips and nodded.

“I understand. Please send him my regards.”

At least he and Terushima would eat well.

Tendou’s face cleared up immediately.

“Do you need a ride?”

Daichi waved the envelope.

“No thanks, I have my train fare right here.”

“There you go Teru, noodles.”

Sometimes, he wished that Terushima had taken a form with opposable thumbs.

Daichi thrust his feet under the kotatsu and felt himself go liquid over the table top. It had been a long day. He yawned as he scrolled through his inbox, deleting spam after spam, saving a message about a haunting, deleting more spam, and lit a cigarette in his mouth.

The first draw was always the strongest. He coughed. He didn’t know why he rolled his own cigarettes. Only, it was something that he thought he should do. When he was young, he would stick out his tongue with a piece of peppermint balanced on top, offering it up to the sky. As he grew older, gum replaced candy. Now he smoked.

Terushima sneezed at the smell of burning mint[5] and cuddled up to him for assurances.

Daichi laughed and set the cigarette down on an ashtray.

He didn’t see the thing that took flight from his balcony.

“Did you see him?”

“He’s precious.” Kuroo replied. “Where did you even find him?”

“Better not let Bokuto-san hear that.” Akaashi advised, ignoring his question.

“Yo!” Kuroo waved when he caught sight of Bokuto on the rooftop.

“Hey, hey, you’re here!”

Kuroo scratched at his neck.

“You missed a little something—ah there.”

“I’m still hungry.” Bokuto frowned as he wiped away the smear of lipstick on his throat.

Kuroo hummed. It was one thing for youkai like him to be out and about but Bokuto was a god. And since he was in the middle plane[6], passing as human, he liked to go on his little hunts, rustling lesser youkai from their nests, disrupting the natural order. In the lower plane, they had a name for him. God-Eater, unnatural.

“You should really consider switching your diet. Human _souls_ tend to be less fattening.” Kuroo advised.

Bokuto shook his head.

“Nah, Daichi wouldn’t like that.”

“He’s a cop, he wouldn’t mind if one or two child molesters went missing.”

Bokuto considered this for all of three seconds and shook his head again.

“No, he still wouldn’t like it.”

“Does he prefer infidelity?” Kuroo asked. He felt Akaashi tense up beside him. “That woman is not a good smell on you bro.”

Bokuto’s eyes were moon-bright and sharp like the edge of a knife.

“My bride is generous.” Bokuto smiled. “Daichi doesn’t know it yet. I’m doing this for him.”

Kuroo scoffed.

“Fine then. Let’s go fishing.”

In dreams, Daichi was flying.

He never once looked down.

**Author's Note:**

> *Please note that in this story, exorcist is a subset of shamans. 
> 
> **[1]** Ofuda – paper talisman used for good luck, as charms or as wards. The portable form of ofuda is omamori and omamori would be the amulet you throw if we lived in a world where we throw around good luck charms and well wishes like toilet paper. 
> 
> Daichi doesn't know better so he drew protection/anti-Oikawa charm on sticky notes.
> 
> **[2]** Tadaima – “I’m home/back”  
>  **[3]** Raijuu – A legendary creature from Japanese mythology. Is said to fly around as ball of lightning. Literally translates to thunder animal/beast. Its cry sounds like thunder. So pokemon before pokemon was a thing.  
>  **[4]** Seven Stars – Google says that it’s the most popular brand of cigarettes in Japan.  
>  **[5]** Mint – in Japan, one of the flower meanings for mint is “wake up from an illusion” or “come to one’s senses”. Due to its strong smell apparently.  
>  **[6]** In this universe, the world is split into three tiers. Upper, middle and lower.


End file.
